


The Look In Your Eyes

by orphan_account



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, F/M, Infidelity, Jealousy, Jumin Han's Route, Masturbation, POV Third Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Zen's Perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:23:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9636656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Zen’s mistaken perception of MC as innocent seemed like an age ago. Now the woman of his dreams, the object of his long-suppressed desire, and the reason why he had to contain the beast, was secretly rutting against his rival’s hand. In an RFA meeting. While getting off tohim.He could understand the irresistible appeal of his god-given looks, even to someone as beautiful as her, but she’d chosen Jumin.Hadn’t she?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a good few years, but I love this game and figured it was time to give something a whirl! May God Seven have mercy on my smut-ridden soul. My thanks go to [moanerlisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moanerlisa), who is a terrible enabler but a brilliant friend.
> 
> While this is technically Jumin/MC, it focuses on Zen/MC and is from Zen's POV. Takes place post-Jumin's route and **contains mild spoilers for Jumin's route.**

Zen hadn’t even meant to sit opposite MC. That’s what he kept reminding himself throughout this ordeal.

Following the success of RFA’s first fundraising party in over a year, all the members had been required to attend a debriefing at C&R, in the hopes of putting what they had learned to good use for future parties. Their new party planner, MC, had agreed to stay on as Rika’s replacement, which had come as a relief to the others. After Jumin’s sudden proposal, it had been uncertain what the new Mrs Han had planned for her life. It would have been understandable if she’d preferred instead to settle down, particularly as she hadn’t exactly planned to join the RFA in the first place. 

However, she had genuinely enjoyed the eleven frenetic days which had constituted the planning period for her first, unexpected role organising a fundraising party, even with all the accompanying drama. What’s more, the party itself had been an outstanding success, and the RFA were eager to see what she could accomplish with a more accommodating time-frame.

So, after a long-awaited and well-deserved holiday, Jaehee was giving a presentation in the main C&R conference room, containing her analysis of donation figures, guest correspondence, post-party sponsorship offers, positive press coverage, and other details that belied Jaehee’s thorough approach to all her work.

The RFA filed into the room, chattering away to each other and paying little attention to seating. Yoosung and Seven settled in at the front of the room, while Zen and MC had been the last to enter, heavily absorbed in a conversation about Zen’s new musical role. Zen tried not to resent Jumin too much, especially after seeing the positive influence MC had on him, but _damn_ , sometimes he felt it wasn’t fair that the trust fund jerk had managed to marry a woman who was not only beautiful and brilliant, but so passionate about musical theater! Would Jumin appreciate her insights into “The Jalapeño Topping Was Pretty Spicy”, or her sheer exuberance when she managed to get tickets to sold out shows? Probably not. He’d just say she was “cute”. Apparently, his passions lay with soap operas, which didn't even warrant a scathing comment.

Zen settled into his seat at the back of the room, opposite MC. She hastily whispered a promise that she’d come to see his new show again soon, before Jaehee signalled for quiet to begin the presentation. The lights dimmed and background music began to play, yet her voice was clear and moderately loud, as the room had surround speakers for use with the microphone headset she wore. Obviously, C&R would spare no expense when it came to facilitating business meetings, and Zen supposed they should be lucky that Jumin deigned to use his silver spoon in a way which assisted the RFA. Still, he couldn’t help but glance across at him in mild annoyance. The irrational part of him felt like it was showing off to host the meeting here amongst the Han wealth, even if the rational part of him knew it made sense. 

Jumin was sat next to his new wife, _who he didn’t deserve_ , and staring intently at Jaehee as she got into the main content of the presentation. He was occasionally nodding and making quiet noises of agreement, which Zen couldn’t help but feel was odd somehow. Jumin was apparently a good business man and a diligent worker, even if Zen would have preferred to think of him as a selfish delegator, but he usually had little tolerance for Jaehee’s voice, or praise for the work she did. Was this really the effect MC had on him? Zen had been shocked enough when Jumin had granted Jaehee a holiday, but this was surely too far? Not only that, but Jumin’s new and improved disgusting-in-love persona usually meant that he rarely paid attention to anyone when MC was around, except perhaps that damned furball. However, here he was, sat right next to her, and he wasn’t even gazing into her eyes and telling her how cute she was, like he insisted on doing all the damn time. 

Zen glanced over at the figure opposite him, just to make sure she was still MC and not some kind of Jumin-repelling imposter, and froze. 

MC’s face was almost completely red. Her lips parted as she took in quick, shallow breaths, and her eyes were heavy towards the ground. What was wrong with her?! He followed her gaze, down her flushed face, down her rising and falling chest, down at… down at… _that jerk!_

Perhaps he couldn’t have noticed if he were sat elsewhere, but as the only other person at the back of the conference room, Zen had a clear view of Jumin’s arm. Specifically, Jumin’s arm, which was angled towards MC’s lap. Jumin’s arm, which disappeared under the table towards her- _god_ , he couldn’t even think it! 

Zen felt the rage rise in him at the audacity of the man, no the beast, in front of him, who was violating MC in such a way! Once again, Jumin hadn’t thought to consider her thoughts and feelings on the matter; he’d just gone ahead with his perverse fancies. Zen knew he should have called the police after all for that creepy cage “joke”. Clearly Jumin really was as untrustworthy as he’d thought, and poor MC was paying the price.

What could he do? If he drew attention to it, even if it was to rebuke Jumin, surely MC would be mortified at such a public embarrassment. Rationally, he knew they loved each other, maybe even- no, he didn’t need to think about _that_ , but there was no way MC would agree to something like this. It was obvious Jumin had pressured her into it, if he’d asked her at all, and innocent MC, who was always so inexplicably understanding of Jumin’s debauchery, would have been willing to please.

_Which is exactly the problem,_ Zen fumed, _that he takes advantage of her sweet nature! She doesn’t even suspect that he’s capable of-_

MC let out a small, soft moan. It was barely detectable, and as Zen whipped his head around, it didn’t seem like the others had noticed. They were caught up in Jaehee’s presentation, the combination of her voice, the background music, and sheer concentration covering the noise. 

_That noise_. It had gone straight to Zen’s groin without consulting his brain, which was currently preoccupied with the troubling conclusion that it was a sound of pleasure. _She’s actually enjoying what the trust fund kid is doing to her._

Denial was swiftly rushing in, because of course she couldn’t be, as Zen tried to subtly shift in his seat to relieve some of that damn pressure. He was about to chastise himself for reacting in such a way, when he looked back up and saw that MC’s eyes were on him.

Her eyes were still heavy, he realised, lidded with the haze of pleasure rather than the weight of concern. Her face was flushed from, well _that_ , rather than embarrassment. And her breathing wasn’t fast from anxiety at all, but something altogether more enjoyable. He looked frantically over at Jumin, suddenly terrified that the man would somehow detect his situation through the conference table. But Jumin’s eyes were still firmly on Jaehee, and it was only now that Zen was looking closely at him, that he saw the slight tell-tale signs of Jumin’s exertions: his elevated breathing, the small drops of sweat on his neck, and his forward posture, concealing MC from the front of room.

Zen glanced back at her. As his eyes resumed contact with hers, she let out another soft moan. 

_Fuck._ He was now painfully hard. He tried shifting himself again, unable to draw his eyes away from her. He saw her eyes flicker downwards at his movement, and then widen as comprehension dawned. He was about to silently, frantically apologise, but then he felt something against his legs. Her legs. She’d leaned back in her seat, angling her lower half forward, so that she was simultaneously pushing herself further into Jumin’s touch, while stretching her now open legs to brush Zen’s. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the gentle movement of them against him in time with Jumin’s ministrations and _fuck_ , why did that no longer disgust him, but arouse him?

Zen was overcome with the sight of her gently rocking against Jumin’s fingers, so caught up in pleasure that she didn’t care if he was watching, or- was she _happy_ that he was watching her? She was still watching him, her legs pressing more and more insistently against his. He couldn’t help but think about what was occurring under the table. Jumin wouldn’t be so bold as to have his fingers under her skirt, would he? Then again, if Jumin Han had any decency, he wouldn’t have been so bold as to do this at all. It was difficult to tell, due to the loose-fitting top which obscured most of MC’s lap, save for the glimpse of Jumin’s arm. Zen thought about if it were his fingers pressing against her instead and _god_ , that sent a jolt through him. Of course, if it were him, he’d never do something so debauched, but if he had-

He would lean forward, looking for all the world an attentive listener to Jaehee’s presentation. After all, unlike Jumin, he was actually an actor, and would pull it off so much better. He’d keep his hand on MC’s leg, not possessive, _unlike some people_ , but gentle and reassuring. He’d stroke her softly with her thumb, just to remind her of his touch. Platonic, almost, but that would change.

He’d slowly move his hand up her thigh, and she’d quietly gasp – _just like she is now, oh god_ – as he reached her. He’d slowly, teasingly, ghost his fingers over her mound, until he felt the slightest twitch of her seeking his touch, silently asking for more. And he’d acquiesce because, _still unlike some people_ , he was a gentleman. He’d rub her through her skirt, feeling along her folds until he reached the faint outline of her clit through the fabric. And then he’d press down, gently but firmly, as she let out that first sinful moan. He’d be firmer, compensating for the fabric’s prevention of sensation, but it wouldn’t be enough for her. Not enough to make her come for him.

So perhaps Jumin’s fingers were under the waist of her skirt after all. Or maybe she had it rucked up so he could reach underneath and _god_ , Zen wished he could see under the table, at fingers working against the thinner, soaked satin of her imagined lingerie. Or maybe it was pushed aside, and it was her slick, wet folds that were on display. _Fuck_. If they were his fingers, he’d give her more, he’d pump them inside her until he was coated with her, until she was silently begging for the cock they were a poor substitute for. Would he be able to get away with surreptitiously licking them after she was done? Or would she be willing, as she’d been so willing for everything else, to take his finger between her lips and suck herself off him?

Zen couldn’t deal with this for much longer. The woman in front of him, the images in his head, and the now overwhelming pressure of his desperately straining cock, had all combined to make this conference a very special hell for him. He needed to do something, anything, to alleviate the all-encompassing _want_ that she’d created. Intentionally, it seemed. Her gaze was still on him, not wavering for a second, not even to check if the others had noticed Jumin’s incognito activities. Or if Jumin had noticed what she was doing, or rather, who she was using as eye candy to get off to. 

Zen shifted uncomfortably again, unintentionally succeeding in diverting her attention. Her eyes flickered, just briefly, downwards. Not at the hand pressed against her, but the hand Zen was trying to subtly press against himself.

“Oh.”

It was quiet. She hadn’t lost enough control to risk discovery, but compared to her earlier sighs and moans, it was deafening. It was the last straw for Zen. He leaned forward, resting his left elbow on the conference table, and his chin on his hand. Jaehee hadn’t so much as glanced at him, possibly not wanting to distract herself with his god-given looks, and the other two members were facing firmly forwards, but he still didn’t want to risk anything. He’d spent his whole career perfecting how to avoid a scandal. 

Slowly, he manoeuvred his right hand to open his fly and slowly slide his hand into his jeans, rubbing against himself. The sudden increase in sensation knocked the air out of him, and he had to struggle not to pant as he began to pick up the pace. He knew that MC wouldn’t be able to see his cock from her vantage point, but that wouldn’t stop her from picking up on the subtle twitches of his forearm as he carefully moved his hand up and down, from the base of his shaft to his tip, rotating his hand slightly as he increased the pressure of his grip. 

That seemed to be enough for MC, as she began to pick up her pace against Jumin, becoming more noticeable in her desperation for stimulation. Jumin seemed to get the message, while still not so much as glancing in her direction. He leaned even further forward, disguising the movement with a mock yawn. After the change in position, he had a better angle to push against her, while still concealing her from Jaehee and any members who happened to look back. This was evidently what MC needed, as her mouth fell open and stayed there, needy pants pouring from it. Her hips were now grinding in an unmistakeable rut. She was no longer a passive recipient, but actively fucking herself against Jumin’s fingers as the presentation continued.

Zen’s thoughts snapped back to – _what if?_ What if they were his fingers, which she apparently so desperately wanted against her. Is that what she was thinking? Fucking herself against Jumin, _her husband_ , while imagining Zen in his place? 

_Oh_ , that thought was getting him off more than he could have imagined. MC, fucking Jumin at night, gasping moans meant for Zen as she tried desperately not to cry out his name. MC, when Jumin was away on business trips, touching herself to DVDs of Zen’s racier performances. 

Or MC, right now, imagining Zen’s fingers against her, two pressed against her clit and two deep inside her. MC, wishing hopelessly that it was his long, thick, hard cock pounding inside her instead, fucking her so well that she couldn’t help but scream. 

MC, who was so desperate for him, that she couldn’t contain herself even in front of the RFA.

Zen was slowly losing control of himself, as he’d always known he could. He needed his hand on his cock, now. He needed to imagine her hand around him, her cunt around him, _oh god_. He frantically wrestled with his underwear, plunging his hand underneath to finally, finally grab himself.

There was no finesse now. Zen leaned further forward, praying to whatever god was listening that the RFA didn’t discover him, part of him not even caring if they did, because what did anything matter when she wanted him so badly? His hand was pumping his cock and he was close, so close already, the sight of MC coming apart doing more than hours of physical stimulation. She looked like she was close too, her hips erratic, straining against Jumin’s arm as she leaned back, eyes suddenly screwing shut as her lips mouthed-

_Zen. Zen. Zen. Fuck. Zen._

It had been the last thing he’d expected. Zen gasped as his hips jerked and he came, came so hard, from MC undone in front of him, from her, _fuck_ , chanting his name as she’d come against another man’s fingers. He spurted against his underwear, imagining that he’d come on her breasts, come on her face, come inside of her, filling her with him, his come dripping down her thighs.

Her eyes were hazy now as she smiled at him, before leaning back against Jumin’s shoulder, eyelids fluttering closed with satisfied exhaustion. Zen took a moment to drink her in, working to regain his control and regulate his breathing. He tried to wrap his mind around exactly how this had happened. He hadn’t even meant to sit opposite MC. He wouldn’t have dared dream of this.

Eventually, he reached down to adjust himself, the practicality of his predicament dawning on him. Still, he reasoned, if they could get away with _that_ while technically in front of the RFA, they wouldn’t pay much attention if he took a subtle bathroom break to get cleaned up. He gestured towards Jaehee, who finally seemed to notice him, and nodded in understanding before continuing. Yoosung and Seven looked back briefly in vague interest, before returning to the slideshow, allowing Zen to slowly make movements towards leaving the room. Hopefully he could make it without them noticing what was surely now an obvious wet patch on the front of his jeans.

At the door, he glanced back one more time at MC: the woman who’d provoked this reaction from him, who’d come so prettily, and who’d given him perhaps the best orgasm of his life, not to mention the images to fuel many more. 

He froze at the sight of Jumin Han’s eyes on him. 

MC still had hers closed, unaware against Jumin’s shoulder. Zen waited, breathless, as Jumin seemed to weigh him up. Zen usually made no effort to disguise his dislike of the trust fund kid, but this time he knew he was in the wrong. Did Jumin know it was the thought of Zen that made MC, _his wife_ , come so hard, and not the skill of his fingers? Shit, did he know that Zen had jerked himself off, right across the table from him, with encouragement from the woman he loved?

Jumin’s eyes flickered downwards as he finally took notice of Zen’s obvious display, and then back up to his face. The pretence was over. 

Zen held his breath, waiting for the consequences. Would Jumin just banish Zen from the RFA with chilly contempt? Would he use his infinite wealth to ruin Zen’s reputation, career, and life? Or would he actually resort to violence? An outpouring of possessive rage would be much in character of this new, married Jumin Han.

Jumin paused for a moment, as Zen waited in suspended agony. 

Then, slowly, his expression neutral, never breaking eye contact, he raised a glistening finger to his lips.


End file.
